


fire through fire

by Balthuza



Category: Shards of the Sun (D&D Campaign)
Genre: but he can't really argue, even if they get insta rez, nobody likes a dead healer, not quite the way he'd like to be in Dross, others can tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 02:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16904787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balthuza/pseuds/Balthuza
Summary: It's not the first time that Dross expects to see a city, and instead he is welcomed with the smell of blood and smoke over ruins.





	fire through fire

It's not the first time that Dross expects to see a city, and instead he is welcomed with the smell of blood and smoke over ruins. It's a familiar dance, the steel in his voice when he starts barking orders, instead of asking, as soon as they reach the worst part of the city makes the other give him some odd looks. At this point he is too busy rolling up his sleeves, Trithereon’s presence, markedly angry and mentally exhausted, somewhere further ahead, but there are people who need his help here, and right now they are his sole focus. 

It's a familiar dance, the optimal way to organize a field hospital is something he doesn't really need to think about right now. Healing prayers spill from him like a spring, a wave after a wave of people healed just enough to be sure they’ll make it, and he can tell some of his companions are not happy with his decisions, when he leaves people still hurt and wounded, but stable, behind him and moves on. It does not matter right now. 

It's a familiar dance, the balance between not helping enough and helping too few. In the end he has to ask Trithereon to come closer and he can feel the moment when he realizes what Dross is trying to do and his anger flairs for a second, before settling into something more worried and resigned. 

Trithereon is not Pelor, he is not of fire and by fire, but anger burns as hot as any flames, and Dross still remembers the feeling of putting his hands in the fireplace and feeling nothing. 

This is nothing like that. 

He draws his energy straight from a god and there is a price to pay for that, but right now it doesn't matter, like it did not matter before, and he feels like his skin is burning off, fire flowing through his veins. Dross looks around him, at the pain and straight up wrongness of what happened here, and does his best to make it right. 

Their hands do not shake. 


End file.
